


Love Lies Here

by Elektra Pendragon (elekdragon)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Angst, Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-02-24
Updated: 2000-02-24
Packaged: 2017-10-17 07:31:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elekdragon/pseuds/Elektra%20Pendragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Qui-Gon is dead, Obi-Wan weeps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Lies Here

**Author's Note:**

> Heavily inspired by Aeone’s haunting ballad "Message in my Heart." Set during the funeral pyre scene.

The cremation of Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn was long and exhausting for all who witnessed his return to the Force. So many present at the steps of the Temple to honor the fallen knight, so few who truly knew the story of this special man's soul. Only one who grieved with the whole of his being. To those present, Obi-Wan Kenobi--perfect picture of what a Jedi Knight should be--stood proud and regal next to his new padawan, but inside he ached. His tortured thoughts and memories burned through his lamenting mind though he carefully shielded them from any who might overhear. Only his anguished, smoke-crystal eyes told of the truest thoughts he held back from the inquisition of the outer world.

He would have wept openly the moment the pyre sparked to life, save for the small boy at his side. He needed to remain strong for Anakin, and establish himself as a powerful master like his lover. The other knights stood stoically around the bier, watching their fellow be returned to the Force. For them, as for the child, the concept is an abstract. For Obi-Wan, it is a harsh reality--the Force pulling, dragging, devouring, destroying, propelling Qui-Gon far from Obi-Wan with deadly flame and choking soot. Just as he could not have lept through the killing energy beams to preserve his lover's life, Obi-Wan could not move any closer to the pyre than he already was; the barriers between the two men forced Obi-Wan to once again be the impotent observer in his master's destruction. His body ached with the need to comfort Qui-Gon during this difficult journey as he had held him when he died, but this was a solitary mission in which he would not be allowed to accompany his master. He held his shaking self together with invisible Force-arms, using his precious recollections to give them familiar strength and length as he watched his life fall apart.

His beautiful long hair was the first to go into the intense flames. The grey highlights flashed brilliant burnished gold for a brief moment before they blackened and disappeared. Obi-Wan could remember waking up early many mornings to see a far more  
comforting fire glinting off his soft mane. How it lay fanned out and tussled, as though he had woken and purposely arranged it so perfectly just for his Obi. How Obi-Wan loved to rub his cheek against the greying silk-covered pillow, so close it was as though they were one being; his Master's hair his own, their bodies inseparable. A brief flash of regret as Obi-Wan realized too late he should have taken a lock as a tiny token of their love, a tangible memory to serve him through the long stretch of empty nights laid out before him. There was nothing left of the lengthy tresses now, and perhaps it was all for the better--better to let go than to live in the past and allow the grief to rot inside him.

Every red-gold lick of flame across his master's features tugged at that extraordinary place in Obi-Wan's heart that Qui-Gon's life once occupied. His face was imprinted on his mind, but memory was little substitute for the real thing. He had loved to look upon that strong countenance, whether it was during an important lesson or while they made love. The man had no idea the kind of devastating effect his voice and eyes alone could wrought. Transcending age, species, gender, and socio-economic status,  
Qui-Gon’s sensuality was a potent convergence of the Force. He needed only to stick his left big toe in a room to cause the erotic energy to skyrocket. Young girls blushed, wives threw away their wedding rings, old women fainted. Men gazed in helpless wonder. Animals trailed his wake. Worlds stood still. Gods wept. Watching his presence slowly be forever obliterated from the world they had shared was an interminable eternity of pain and suffering for Obi-Wan.

As the flesh blackened and was obscured by greedy, smoky flames, the wind picked up the flaking ash to make the motes dance in the lights of Coruscant night. Ghosts sang through the enclosure and touched Obi-Wan's ears with their whispers, assailing him with yet another remembrance of those myriad, hazy nights he had lain with his love. As they would languish together in the darkness wrapped in ecstasy and each other's arms, Qui-Gon would whisper Obi-Wan's name like a prayer, worshipping at the temple of his body. The wind merely carried the memory, not the mellifluent words he so longed to hear a final time. For Obi-Wan, there would be no more whispered words of devotion and affection, only the few treasured moments captured like holopictures in his mind.

Hours passed. Morning came and turned its decayed face to afternoon. The embers smoldered, but their thin red glow and a pile of ash was all that remained of the great fire, and a great man. So happened to him, so happens to us all. In the early hours of the morning Obi-Wan had sent Anakin off to their--his and Qui-Gon's--quarters to prepare for the celebration. The dignitaries filtered quietly away one-by-one as each in turn deemed the time appropriate to make their last farewells. Even the Jedi Masters abandoned the smoking rubble once the body was completely consumed. Only Obi-Wan stubbornly remained, refusing to leave his Master behind. Not yet. Not ever.

The wind had died down somewhat with the afternoon's heat, but soon it would return to whisk away all evidence of love in Obi-Wan's life. He held off the rising breeze for as long as he could with a Force shield, but he would not be able to hold on to his lover forever. His every breath was thundering loud in the death-silence surrounding the pyre. Feeling his invisible embrace on his lover's body dissolving under the rising wind, Obi-Wan stepped near the cloak-brown ash and fell to his knees in a posture of meditation and dedication.

"Can you hear me, Master?" he called out to the sky in hopes his voice would reach across the great divide to his beloved's ear.

"You once told me that Time is a Healer of broken lives, but where is it now? Where is my existence without you? I don't feel healed, Master. I barely feel alive." Tendrils of air current broke through his control in small bursts, catching a smaller pile and skattering it over the city-world.

"Life is a gift, you said. Precious and small; so easily lost. So painful to let go. You were my gift, Master. My life. My love." As tears mixed with the ash, more ghostly whispers broke through his shields. More blessed dust fell as an enigmatic benediction upon unsuspecting persons below. Would they know the ash for its exalted consecration, or would they flick Qui-Gon off their jackets in annoyance? Salty sobs escaped his mouth as the last of his control was ripped from his soul. The winds captured the sound, wrapping it protectively around the particles of his heart as the pyre shattered explosively.

It was over in seconds what had taken hours--decades--to accomplish. All that remained was a light, dusty outline of the bier and a shattered young knight grasping at the fragments of his life.

There is no measure for grief. When the pain is the strongest, time and reality cease to exist on same plane with the abandoned heart. It was only the incongruous sounds of joyous celebration that drew Obi-Wan out of his sorrow. He lingered a few seconds more, trailing his fingers through what to others was insignificant dirt, to him more precious than a heartbeat. His serenity returned, he stood and left the Temple steps without a backwards glance.

In the lengthening shadows of late afternoon, as the rest of Coruscant celebrated, a single shaft of light escaped the towering buildings to highlight the message of a heart left behind by the grieving warrior. Traced in the echoes of a life, three single words served as the eloquent eulogy.

It read simply: "Love Lies Here."


End file.
